All the signs are there that school has begun. It’s not just the flashing School Zone signs reminding us to slow down for students; it’s also the heavy traffic in the morning and afternoon, and the social media posts announcing everyone’s arrival on campus and into new dorms.

Some things never change. Parents send their children of all ages into the classrooms and onto the campuses where they’ll learn, grow, and stretch their minds. A few students struggle on the first day to leave the comforts of home, and some parents struggle to watch their children take their next big step. I vividly recall when my middle daughter began kindergarten. It was the first year that she’d ride the big yellow school bus to her elementary school less than a mile away. We walked together to the end of the driveway to wait for the bus. When it arrived, she was ready and eager to board the bus and make her way. She wasn’t one to struggle with such transitions. But her father? To me, the bus swallowed up my daughter and roared down the street as it belched smoke at me from the rear. When my eyes cleared, I knew that I couldn’t rescue her from her first day in kindergarten, and that she’d be returned safely a few hours later.

The difference, today, is that our schools and campuses aren’t just innocent places where ABCs and major subjects are taught. They’ve also become insulated havens or locked and secured compounds. We have no choice but to send our children to learn about the world they’re going to lead, but we’re also required to do it with less naivete and more preparedness.

Our role as parents hasn’t changed. We should still insist on the best settings, resources, and opportunities for our children where they can learn safely and unafraid. But, today, we have choices where our children and our tuition dollars are spent. If college campuses are no longer secure compounds for Jewish young adults, then we can choose other campuses, and many Jewish students have done just that. If they insist on returning to places that have experienced unrest, then they should return more prepared to engage within their rights to safety on campus, to a professional education in the classroom, and to worship as Jews without fear.

Anything less requires all of us to speak up. University presidents and courts of law might act slower than we need them to, but eventually, they hear the voices of those who speak up the loudest, and who withhold tuition and philanthropic dollars. School and university leaders have lost their jobs and reputations over causes they didn’t understand well enough and failed to protect. But we, Jewish parents and grandparents, have never misunderstood these causes or our expectations of public and private schools where our children enter to learn, to grow, and to prepare for the future.

At best, the school year will begin with less friction and more joy. But if you’re still facing uncertainty this fall, the Jewish community has resources for students and parents. It’s a family matter that needs attention. This year can be better. Please let us know how we can help.

L’Shalom,